There Were Lessons Learned
by cloverblob
Summary: Rachel needs answers from the woman who up and left a whole year ago, and Shelby isn't sure how to explain. Possible "I Am Unicorn" spoilers. Rachel/Shelby angst. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **So, here's a little Rachel/Shelby one shot I hope you'll enjoy, inspired by the Somewhere preview. I love doing these mother/daughter vignettes, they're kind of my crack. I'll probably end up writing more as I drum up the proper muse for my mutli-chapter fics. Review please, lovelies!

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><p>"So what are you really doing here?"<p>

"I don't have some ulterior motive, Rachel."

"Well, one can never know when it comes to you."

Shelby sighed, already knowing that there was no way she'd be able to make the girl see her side of things. And actually, she didn't really want to try. Especially not here, in the middle of the school's hallway. She had made her announcement to the current glee club that she'd been hired to create a new one, with a different regime and promise to bring them to a nationals title. She wasn't expecting anyone to jump out of their seats to join her, but when Shelby had left the room, Rachel was right on her heels.

And here they were against a set of lockers, Shelby with her arms crossed lazily in front of her, Rachel with her hands fidgeting upon the strap of her schoolbag; staring at each other respectively. The girl had so many questions for the woman, but her mind couldn't settle on just one and Shelby didn't seem to be making much effort at conversation herself, just gazing over at her daughter's face.

"I'm trying out for the school musical today," Rachel said suddenly, hoping by some miracle this fact would actually draw some interest from her estranged mother.

Shelby smiled politely. "That's fantastic," she replied. "I'm sure you're going to do great."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them again. Their faces dropped, both of them turning their gaze away from each other, more interested in the floor tiles and patterns of the ceiling. Good long minutes passed, as they both attempted say something. Each opening their mouths at one point, as though about to say something, then deciding against it at the last minute.

"I should, uhm, go," Shelby informed, pointing towards the hallway behind her. "I have to meet another teacher about something. Busy first day and all."

"Right, okay... I understand. Bye," Rachel responded with a small shrug.

"Maybe I could come watch your audition later, or something...?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. It's not necessary."

"No, it's not, I suppose... I'll, uh, I'll see you later, Rachel."

"Yeah. See you, Shelby."

The older woman turned on her heel, Rachel not quite moving from her spot yet as she watched her mother, with her hourglass physique and purple dress, that she knew she could not pull off half as well, turn around the corner. She propped the strap of her bag to a more comfortable location on her shoulder and slowly made her way to her next class.

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><p>Rachel made her way out towards the parking lot, searching through her bag for her car keys. She stood directly outside the doors of the school, shielded from the pouring rain by the cement overhead. She turned at the sound of the door hinge opening and closing behind her.<p>

"Oh. Hi, sweetie," Shelby greeted, barely audible over the sound of raindrops on the pavement. "You waiting for a ride?"

"No," Rachel replied, holding up the keys she just located. "I was just looking for these."

In the midst of opening her umbrella, the mother turned her attention back her daughter. "How was the audition?"

"Good, I think," she said with a nod, somewhat satisfied that Shelby had even thought to ask. "I thought about you."

Shelby didn't answer, or even look up from her attempt of unfastening the umbrella from its folded capacity and Rachel wasn't sure if she'd even heard her. "Thought of me?" she repeated, looking up, slightly nervous.

"I imagined you were there, singing with me." Rachel swallowed, unsure of how her mother would take this. "It gave me confidence, and the emotional aura that I needed to put me over the top."

"I see," Shelby replied shortly. "Let me take to your car, don't want you to get wet."

"Oh, thank you. I guess didn't watch the forecast this morning."

"Yeah, neither did I. Just had a feeling."

They walked to Rachel's car synchronously, Shelby reaching her umbrella-armed hand over so far to make sure she was adequately covering Rachel, that her entire right side was quickly becoming drenched.

As they reached the driver's side door, they stopped.

"Thank you," Rachel said graciously, putting her key in the door.

"I thought you didn't want me to be there." Rachel stopped abruptly, leaving the key inside the lock, turning to face her mother again.

"What?"

"At the audition. You said I didn't have to be there, so I didn't go. And I was sitting in my office earlier, going over our conversation and I fully convinced myself that you definitely didn't want me there. But you did. Why didn't you just say so?"

"I didn't want to impose myself or be a burden to you."

Shelby scoffed lightly.

"What?" Rachel asked, not understanding the tone.

"_I _didn't want to impose myself or be a burden."

Rachel contemplated this reply for a moment. "I'm confused. I thought you didn't want me – _us_, to have a relationship."

"That's what you thought I meant when we last spoke?"

"_'Appreciate each other from afar.'_ What else am I supposed to think?" She quoted of her mother's words that had rung through her mind endlessly the past year.

"Not _that_," she said incredulously. "I meant what I said. I've been to all three of your show choir performances last year. I called your dads last Hanukkah, to see how you were. Sent you a present. I held up my end of the bargain."

"You sent me a present?"

"You didn't get it?"

"I don't think so. What was it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What was it?" she pushed.

"Never mind."

"Just tell me, mom!"

"Let it go, Rachel."

"What is wrong with you? One minutes you're reaching out to me, the next you're just turning away."

"I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"What to do! What to say!" Shelby burst out in frustration. "I- ... I see the way that you look at me – with so much awe. Like I'm this modicum of everything you look up to-"

"But you _are_ everything I look up to!" Rachel interjected, completely missing the point.

"No! I'm not! Rachel, I'm not the perfect woman. You've spent seventeen years thinking about the kind of person that your mother might be. And I don't know you all that well, but I can tell that you dream _really_ big. And I can't live up to your expectations. I knew right away that I didn't belong in your life. For a lot of reasons, more than what I can put into words. You want me to be this mother that I could never become. Someone who's amazing and sophisticated, but still bakes cookies and stuff.

"I'm not some Broadway star with fame and fortune, and I know that's what you had been hoping for. Patti Lupone, right? I mean, she's kind of a diva bitch, but I get where you were coming from. And I know you want me to say all the right things and-and, I can't. I'm just me. I'm not Barbra, I'm not Bernadette, I can't be them. They're, like, really amazing and I'm just some failed actress turned teacher because that's all I had going for me, you know? I didn't want to let you down." Shelby finished, staring at Rachel imploringly.

"You're rambling," Rachel said, with a small smile.

Shelby stared back at her silently, a look of confusion on her face.

"I-I ramble," Rachel explained. "When I'm frustrated and I can't find the words I really need to express myself, I'll either sing about it or I ramble. Like you just did."

Shelby just seemed a little dumbfounded at the amused look on her daughter's face.

"Sorry. I was listening to what you said, and I understand," she said. "My expectations were unrealistic, I knew that. And when I knew that you were my mom that first time I saw you... You didn't meet my expectations." Shelby's face fell. "You surpassed them."

"... What?"

"You were beautiful, you looked just like me, your voice was _better_ than anyone I'd ever heard, but most of all, you were real. And then we sat and talked for an hour. You were dramatic, and a little awkward and even kind of nervous. It was so comforting that you _didn't_ know everything. And then you just left. That was the first time you let me down; not because you're not on Broadway, or because you're not Patti Lupone, but because I thought you realized you didn't want to be there with me."

"You've spent the past year thinking I really didn't want to get to know you?"

"Yes. And I've honestly hated you for it."

"I'm so sorry, Rachel."

Rachel grimaced, though she was beginning to understand her mother's reasoning, there were so many questions left unanswered, and it wasn't something that could be solved out here in the downpour. She turned back to the key left in her door, unlocking and opening it.

"I really am sorry," Shelby called out with such conviction.

"I believe you," Rachel replied, looking up at her as she sat down in her car. "We're not done here, but I should get going. We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"I'd like that," she responded over the tattering of rain hitting the top roof. Shelby watched her child pull out of the parking lot, holding her black umbrella above her head as she finally went to her own car.


End file.
